One Sorry Son of a Bitch (1/1)
By Brandon D. Ray
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere and everywhere, so long as my name
stays on it and no money changes hands.
SPOILER WARNING: One Breath; Memento Mori; Redux II
RATING: PG
CONTENT WARNING: MSR or M/S friendship; should be safe for Shipper and
non-Shipper alike.
CLASSIFICATION: VA
SUMMARY: Let's rewrite the scene where Scully's brother confronts
Mulder in the hospital hallway, shall we?
DEDICATION: To Helen Wills, from whom I stole the title for this
piece. You really ought to check out her story, by the same title.
It's archived on Gossamer, and it's really cool. Hi, Helen! :)
DISCLAIMER: Nope, I do not own these characters or situations. If I
were THAT smart, I would be rich.
One Sorry Son of a Bitch
by Brandon D. Ray
He sat in the hallway all by himself, his head in his hands.
He'd done everything he could, everything he could think of, but it
wasn't doing any good, none of it was helping. She was still slipping
away from him, hour by hour moving farther into the darkness and away
from the light.
She was dying.
Had he really expected that chip to be magic? Could he have really been
that desperate, to pin all his hopes on a small piece of silicon? Had
he really believed that black lunged son of a bitch? He shook his
head. She was dying, and it was all his fault.
A shadow fell across him, and after a moment Mulder looked up. It was
her brother. Mulder tried to think of something to say to the man, but
nothing came, and finally he dropped his eyes again.
The other man spoke. "Has it been worth it? Have you found what you've
been looking for?"
Mulder looked up again and searched Charlie's face. Very softly: "No."
Charlie stood quietly for a moment just looking down at him. He seemed
reserved, remote, and Mulder's mind flashed back to the argument of a
few hours ago; the argument about the chip. <> he thought.
<> But even as he thought the words he
knew himself to be a bastard. Scully was the one who was dying, and
here he was whining about a few harsh words.
To his surprise, Charlie nodded, then sighed and sat down on the bench
next to him. For a few minutes the two men simply sat together,
carefully not looking at each other. Finally, Charlie said, "I
understand you've lost people, too." Pause. "It's hard, isn't it."
It wasn't quite a question, but Mulder answered it anyway. "Yes. Yes,
it is. And it's all my responsibility. It's all because of this thing
I'm looking for."
Charlie turned his head and looked at Mulder curiously. "You really
believe that?"
Mulder shrugged. "Sure. Who else is there to blame?"
The other man gazed at him speculatively for a moment, then shook his
head. "That's not a good enough reason." And then he looked away, and
they were quiet again for awhile.
Mulder thought about Charlie's remark for a few minutes. It almost
seemed as if the other man was saying that Mulder wasn't to blame for
all of this -- but that was impossible. There really wasn't anyone else
to hold responsible, and Mulder knew it. And he also knew that he was
neither needed nor welcome here. Scully had her mother and her brother,
and she had her priest. Family and faith. What did he have to offer
that could compete with that?
"I guess I should be going," he said, and rose to his feet and started
to walk away.
"Mulder!"
Mulder stopped in his tracks, and after a moment he turned to see that
Charlie had got to his feet and was rapidly striding towards him, a look
of anger on his face. "Just where in the hell do you think you're
going?" the other man asked.
Mulder backed away a few steps and shrugged. "I don't know." He
gestured vaguely. "Out. I thought -- I thought you would want that. I
thought Scul -- Dana would want some time alone with her family."
Charlie stared at him for a long moment, and finally shook his head
again. "You're not serious, are you?" he demanded, his voice still
laced with anger. Mulder couldn't think of anything to say, and so he
remained silent. Charlie took another step closer. "Mulder, Dana is
dying. Dying. And right now she needs all the support she can get. I
can't believe you're actually going to walk away from her at a time like
this!"
"Charlie, I -- "
"No!" said the other man. "No, Mulder. No bullshit. Not now. Any
fool can see how much you two care for each other. And if you can walk
away from her now, knowing how much she needs you, then you're one sorry
son of a bitch." He fell silent and for a moment he simply stood there,
glaring at Mulder.
Then suddenly the younger man's anger seemed to dissipate, and he shook
his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said...that last thing." He
took another step forward, and laid a hand on Mulder's shoulder and
stared intently into his eyes, and Mulder was shocked to see tears
forming. "Mulder," Charlie, said, his voice cracking slightly, "she
really does need you. I've been talking to her all afternoon, and I
KNOW. Don't leave her. Go to her. Be there for her." Pause. "Only
love can save her now."
Mulder stared at the other man, barely breathing, and suddenly he
remembered another time, long ago, when Scully had lay dying in a
hospital bed, and Melissa had come to him at the moment of crisis and
persuaded him to turn away from the darkness, and help guide Scully back
to the light. A lot had changed since then; a lot had been lost. But
maybe, just maybe, it could happen again.
He reached up and briefly squeezed Charlie's hand where it still lay on
his shoulder, and nodded. Very softly, he said, "Come on, Charlie.
Let's do it together." And the two men turned and headed back down the
hall, side by side.
Fini
--
"If I heard 'Silent Night' one more time I was going to start taking
hostages."
--Special Agent Dana Scully, "The Ghosts Who Stole Christmas"